Blooming Moon
by Love Tifa
Summary: AU. What if you were forcefully separated from your best friend as a child, only to be reunited with him ten whole years later? Hinata is not sure how to feel, and she also is not sure if things have changed for better . . . or worse •• Sasuke ჯ Hinata
1. uno

**foreword.**

**"M**-mama! Where are we going — ?"

The sound of a little boy's voice pierced the early morning air. His mother, a young woman with pure black hair and matching eyes, tugged her son forcefully by the hand. Moist, gleaming droplets of dew dropped from the verdant blades of grass, painting damp streaks against the little boy's dark blue sneakers as they were all but dragged forcefully along the ground. His small face scrunched up as he stared up at his mother, his own coal eyes shining with confusion. They glanced swiftly to and fro: from the car that had already been started in the drive way, to the suitcase swinging back and forth freely in her other hand.

"We're leaving, now!" she commanded, her eyes steadily focusing on the path in front of her. Her typically serene and melodious voice was hard with impatience and anger.

It made his lips quiver with trepidation. His heartbeat sped up. Was he going to be punished? What had he done wrong? There had been so much yelling earlier, waking up both Sasuke and Hinata from their peaceful slumber. Right when he had been about to sneak into Hinata's room and check up on her, his mother had swooped in and snatched his hand up in a vice-like grip, refusing to let go ever since.

"I'm sorry mama — please don't be mad at me!" he whimpered, his voice cracking. Her relentless grasp on his smaller hand in hers lightened then.

"Sweetheart, I'm not mad at you," the woman reassured him in a honeyed tone, stopping momentarily to stoop down to his level. A tender smile curved her rosy mouth, and she held out her arms to envelope him into a loving embrace. The little boy eagerly buried his face into the crook of the woman's collarbone, sniffing and inhaling deeply. The fragrant scent orchids and jasmine emanated from her, soothing him somewhat. He heard her sigh quietly, and felt her lips brush against his skin.

"Then why are we leaving?"

She hesitated, casting a glance quickly towards the house she was so eager to take him away from. It stood at two stories, with a blue-tiled roof, and was tucked into a quiet corner of an upper-class neighborhood. Half obscured beneath the billowing green leaves of a magnolia tree, the grounds surrounding it were perfectly manicured with bright flowers including the likes of hyacinth, azaleas, and forsythia. Water lilies floated on the blue-black surface of a small pond; a stone lantern guarded the walkway. It was unarguably beautiful to behold, but . . . "When you're older, you'll understand," she whispered. "Now come on, let's go — your grandma is waiting for us."

With that, he was hauled the rest of the way to the car, and the heavy, leather suit case his mother had been carrying was tossed into the back. All the little boy could do was sit up and press his tiny youthful face against the cold, unrelenting glass of the window. His wide, onyx eyes peered at the house; specifically, at tiny, spinning pinwheels taped to a certain windowsill, and fluttering lavender curtains, where surely enough a familiar face peeked out at him, teary-eyed.

"Bye, Hinata . . ." he whispered softly.

"B-Bye, Sasuke," she whispered back, watery, pearly orbs gleaming with unshed tears.

The little girl with short, indigo locks sniffled as she watched the silver car jet down the street, away from her house, and out of sight. She wiped her face dry but soon enough another batch of tears appeared in its place. Frantically, she hurried to wipe them off with the back of her hands, remembering how Sasuke had always scolded her for crying so much. She didn't understand — why had Sasuke and his mom left? Why wasn't she able to go with them? She must have done something wrong to be left here all alone. Above her, high up in the sky, a big cluster of chilled, grey clouds gathered and it began to pour.

Too caught up in trying to stifle the sounds of her weeping, she failed to notice a tall man with solid brown hair and broad shoulders come to stand behind her. Silently, he stared out the window, which shielded them from the storm beginning to furiously brew outside, and into the rapidly descending curtains of rain.

That was the last either children would see each other, until ten years late**r**.

-×-×-  
>Blooming Moon<br>-×-×

**A** blue alarm clock rattles on the nightstand as it shrills to six-thirty in the morning. Watered-down light of a new day leaks through the lavender curtains, a cool breeze twirling inside. Thick lashes flutter and then eyelids slowly lift, revealing bleary opal eyes. There is a wrinkle on Hinata's nose, a small crease between her neat indigo brows. The tired girl closes her eyes, lashes brushing lightly against her cheeks. Curling up beneath the safety of her covers, she hopes the blaring contraption will stop going off on its own, but with no such luck. Moments later, a slender arm reaches out for the loudly ringing alarm clock, and promptly muffles it underneath the cocoon of blankets.

A contented smile graces Hinata's soft features as she is finally allowed to return to sleep. _Finally . . ._

Fifteen minutes later, the chiming sound of her phone blossoms, indicating an incoming call. She is forced out of drifting, pleasant dreams, and languidly comes to her senses. Hinata stretches, skin tight on muscles and bone, a yawn stretching its way up from deep in her belly and jutting hips, up to Hinata's defined sternum, through the corded muscle of her throat, and to the faultless rose 'o' of her lips. A small, pale hand then clumsily reaches out to snatch the phone up and press it against a waiting ear.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," TenTen cheerfully greets Hinata, who is busy propping herself up with her knees drawn up under her chin, hair spilling over the edge of a crisp, white pillow. Somehow, she isn't surprised that it is the brunette who is calling her. TenTen has always been a morning person ever since she can remember. She loves getting in her daily run as early as possible; once upon a time, she'd even tried to get Hinata into it, but failed for obvious reasons.

"Morning," she replies back, her voice thick with sleep. Hinata absently brushes a stray lock out of her face.

"Somehow, I knew you'd still be asleep . . ." She hears TenTen trail off on her side of the phone. There is a brief pause. Then, she continues, "You don't want to be late for your first day back to school, do you?"

A crimson blush stains Hinata's cheeks and she mumbles faintly, "N-no."

"Then get out of bed already! I already went on my morning run, and you haven't even showered yet!" TenTen scolds loudly, and Hinata squeaks while hopping up to her feet and making a mad dash towards the bathroom. She hears fragments of TenTen's laughter before the line abruptly cuts off. Stopping for a couple of seconds, the dark-haired girl casts a wide-eyed glance downwards at her phone, in a state of disbelief. Sometimes, her best friend can be really, really evil.

After her shower, Hinata scrutinizes her reflection in the mirror, softly frowning to herself. She has never been overly fond of her appearance. There is nothing special about her facial shape, and her hueless, pale eyes that gaze back at her are considered weird by the majority, not unique. Her ample chest is too bothersome, often drawing unwanted attention to herself unless she makes an effort to cover up. The only thing Hinata remotely likes about her looks is her long, silken hair — it is a pretty shade of dark indigo, a vivid contrast against the alabaster complexion of her skin. It reminds her of her mother, who had the same type of hair.

Smiling faintly at the thought of her mother, Hinata brushes a fine-toothed comb through her freshly showered hair. The woman died giving birth to her, so the girl never had the chance to get to know her. From what she can piece together based on photos and the little her father has mentioned, her mother was extraordinarily beautiful with kind eyes and an even kinder smile. Unlike Hinata herself who is plain and uninteresting in every way. In fact, the only other person who even has come remotely close to how she envisions her mom to be like is . . .

She abruptly shakes her head of memories from a past best forgotten; then she dons a fresh change of clothes before ambling down the stairs.

The house is empty, with only the lull of morning to embrace her. As Hinata goes about her business, she notices the telltale signs of her father's presence from earlier: a neatly folded newspaper resting on the tabletop and an empty coffee mug and dirty plate sitting in the sink. She dutifully washes and dries the dishes by hand, before preparing her own breakfast. When she is finished, she sits down and begins to eat her raisin oatmeal in silence.

Closing her eyes once, a sigh whispers past Hinata's lips as she stares down into her glass of freshly poured orange juice. She slowly runs her fingertip along the rim, biting her bottom lip, and wishes that things were different — that she did not have to eat in silence.

The only consolation Hinata can give herself is that today will be different. After school, her father will be picking her up and taking her out to eat at a fancy restaurant. The offer had been so unexpected that Hinata had barely been able to maintain a neutral expression. If it was acceptable, she would have beamed and wrapped her arms around him in a tight, heartfelt embrace. But in the Hyuuga family, such behavior is frowned upon, and not considered decent. Instead, she had withheld her overwhelming emotions and nodded gently in consent.

She almost swears she saw something luminous flicker in her father's eyes, but after a second, it was gone. She likes to think that maybe he is looking forward to spending time together too.

In the end, Hinata ends up leaving the house a bit later than she had originally planned, having spent longer time gathering various supplies then double checking and in order to make sure she had everything she needed; after all, she does not want to forget anything, and end up embarrassing herself in front of everyone at school by being unprepared. When Hinata does finally walk out the door though, she has a small, genuine smile on her face, and she's ready to take on the day.

…

…

Her happy mood quickly deflates when she takes a step onto the bus. It is noisy, and reeks of both sweat and teenage hormones. Everything Hinata dislikes compacted into a single, cramped space and transportable via wheels. Oh the joys of public transportation, indeed.

Glass-like eyes quickly dart up and down the aisle, and instantly, floods her face. "N-Naruto-kun," she whispers, unbelieving of what she is seeing. Her toes curl in her shoes and her whole body flushes. The blond-haired boy she so adores is waving right at her from his seat, a cheeky grin lighting up his tanned visage. His eyes, which look as if someone has seized the entire sky and filled up the two orbs with the cerulean hue, are looking right at her. They are brimming with such genuine jubilation that Hinata feels like she will float away on the wind like a silvery balloon. "Sit next to me, I saved you a seat — "

She takes a step forward, her heart pounding so hard she can feel it in her ears.

" — Sakura-chan!"

Then promptly finds the shattered pieces on the floor, one-sided affection dancing amongst the shards.

Hinata feels a light yet firm tap on her shoulder. Her eyes meet radiant emeralds. A teenaged girl with chin-length pink hair gives Hinata a polite smile. "Excuse me, but could you . . . ?"

"S-sorry . . . " Hinata whispers. She ducks her head, and moves quickly into an empty seat. She soon hears Sakura loudly proclaim that Naruto is a baka, before straight up refusing to sit next to him.

Scrunching up her body to appear as small as possible, Hinata gazes down at her lap. Red stains her cheeks and refuses to die down as the most recent and horrifyingly embarrassing of events replays over and over in her mind like a broken record. She actually thought Naruto wanted her to sit next to him. For a few seconds, she presumed he desired to be in her presence. It had made her so happy she actually believed it. She feels ridiculous for even considering that such a sunny person like him would want anything to do with a wallflower like her.

"There you are!"

A girl with chocolate brown tresses in two identical buns on either side of her head is staring down at her, one hand cocked on her hip. The usual self-confident smirk is playing at her lips. Her longtime best friend of five years has always exuded an aura of self-assurance that Hinata admires.

She can still recall the first time they met. Hinata had been assigned to help tutor her in math of all things. It had come as a tremendous surprise that a girl who excelled in virtually every sport on the field could struggle with something as simple as numbers and equations. Then again as much as Hinata has always disliked the subject, it's always come easy for her, and apparently not everyone is as fortunate.

After school, the two of them would spend close to an hour together — in a classroom, sitting side by side, and working through various math problems. One day, TenTen just smiled at her and asked if she wanted to come over her house. Her upfront approach and easy grin had been enough for Hinata to shyly say yes. Ever since, the two of them had become inseparable, and Hinata couldn't help but think that while TenTen had received assistance in a subject she struggled with, she herself had benefited more by gaining an irreplaceable existence in her life.

Chuckling at the meek expression on Hinata's face, TenTen slides in to sit beside her. "With the way you're all huddled up like that, I barely noticed you. Just who are you hiding from?"

"N-nobody . . ." she says quietly, staring down at her hands.

"Sure, sure," TenTen replies, rolling her coppery brown eyes. "Now get out your schedule so we can compare them!"

Hinata does, reaching down into her bag to pull out a piece of paper folded up really small. It turns out they only share one period together — Pre-Calculus. A class both girls find to be an absolute bore, but will be a lot more tolerable since they'll have each other to get through it. They also have the same lunch period. That is a huge relief. But otherwise, that is it. The fact that Hinata is enrolled in various Honors classes may have something do with it, which TenTen teases her for by teasingly chiding, "You're such an overachiever."

It is true though. Hinata is accustomed to being a good student, with no grade lower than a B-. The problem is that even B-'s are unacceptable within the Hyuuga household, and she knows she can do better. This year, she will have to buckle down on her studies so that way she can improve, and make even higher marks.

TenTen sighs. "Oh well. It could be worse."

Hinata smiles anxiously, awkwardly, and presses her fingers together the way she typically does whenever she feels like retreating somewhere far away or hoping the ground will open up and swallow her whole. She does not say anything because she honestly cannot see how this day can get any worse — it's already off to a horrible start.

The bus comes to a stop, and the brunette excitedly grasps Hinata's hand in hers. They move to stand in the aisle, the queue quickly making its way forward as eager students mill onto the school grounds. Her dark eyes light up as Hinata appears to be lost in a deep ocean of thoughts. She asks brightly, "So, how's Neji doing?"

Her lashes flutter. She automatically glances up at TenTen, who is trying to appear smooth and nonchalant, but isn't doing a very good job.

Neji Hyuuga is handsome with ice white eyes and the sleekest deep, brown hair of any young man either girl has ever seen. He also just happens to be Hinata's elder cousin, who moved out to attend a college far, far away from the Hyuuga family. TenTen has crushed on him ever since early high school, but Neji to her knowledge has never returned those feelings. Hinata feels bad, wishing she can tell TenTen straight up that she deserves better than someone silent and untouchable, but she can't bring herself to knowing it will make her a hypocrite. She knows how it feels to like someone who might as well be a thousand miles away. So instead, she smiles and says softly, "He's doing fine, though he told me he misses my cooking."

"Tell him not to be a stranger then, and come visit sometime soon," TenTen suggests, finally stepping off the bus.

She nods, biting her lip. "I will."

Hinata and TenTen finally make it to their usual waiting spot, sitting on a stone bench to wait until the morning bell rings. TenTen mostly does the talking, while Hinata patiently listens, swinging her legs back and forth absently. When Naruto walks by chattering animatedly with a grinning Kiba, Hinata turns her face away, color spreading over her nose and cheeks. Her friend pauses in the middle of her lengthy spiel and wiggles her eyebrows conspiratorially at the perturbed girl. This causes her blush to burn brighter; she knows what is coming, and she dreads it with every fiber of her being.

"How long have you liked Naruto now?"

The dark-haired girl closes her eyes, breathes, and curls her hands around the edge of her zip-up hoodie. Hinata then opens her eyes, which gleam uncertainly. "S-since . . . since the sixth grade."

"Right, and we're juniors now," TenTen states as a matter-of-fact. "Next year, we'll be seniors. Pretty soon we'll all be off to college. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life regretting the fact that you never once took initiative?"

A soft sigh tumbles out of Hinata's mouth. "You make it sound so easy . . . "

TenTen brandishes a finger. "That's because it is! Trust me. It's better to come clean with your feelings before it's too late to do anything about them. Even if things don't always turn out how you'd like them to . . ." Hinata looks up at TenTen's last words thoughtfully, chewing her lip.

"My point is," TenTen continues to say, wagging her finger even more at Hinata if that is possible, complete with metaphorical sparkles bursting behind her, "is that you need to tell him already — before it's too late!"

…

…

TenTen's final words of advice echo in her mind as she walks down the hallway towards her homeroom. _You need to tell him already — before it's too late!_

In her own little world, Hinata begins to sigh mentally, deeply. She knows her long-time best friend means well, she always does. It is just . . . it's so hard! It is so much harder than she can imagine. For someone as socially inept as her, coming out and simply telling Naruto how she feels is more than a difficult task; it is impossible. Besides, it seems clear as day that Naruto has his eyes on someone else; someone more beautiful, confident, and outgoing that is not only well-liked for her looks but also for her smarts.

Just thinking about Sakura is enough to make Hinata slump in despair.

To no surprise, she sees Sakura when she walks in the door of Room 114. Homerooms have always been determined based upon alphabetical order, and both girls' last names begin with the letter H. She is naturally surrounded by an assortment of girls, talking and giggling back and forth.

Hinata barely makes out a string of conversation including the mention of a new boy who is oh-so dark, mysterious, and handsome. She pays it no mind, sitting by herself in the corner patiently until their homeroom teacher gives out their locker numbers. After everyone is assigned their lockers, a few announcements are made. Then students are dismissed to go to their first periods of the day.

"I've already assigned everyone their seats. As soon as you're at your desk, copy what's written on the board and wait for further instruction," Mrs. Hozono barks in a surprisingly booming voice when Hinata walks in. She is a severe looking woman, of extremely slender build with frizzy, gray hair and frost-blue eyes. She is of course the teacher for Chemistry Honors. Not wasting any time, she points at a desk and begins. "Nara, Shikamaru."

Hinata watches as a boy with a lazy, unhurried gait walks over to his seat, muttering something about troublesomeness underneath his breath. The teacher keeps calling out names after that. She herself ends up sitting in a row of people she does not know, fidgeting uncomfortably all the while. In fact, the more Hinata looks around the classroom, the more she realizes she doesn't recognize a single, familiar face. Combined with the fact that Mrs. Hozono is notorious around the school for being intimidating and dishing out an unmanageable amount of work . . . Chemistry already appears like it will be one of the more daunting, nerve-wracking classes of the school year.

_Still, I need to keep my grades up. I want to make an A._ With that sentiment in mind, Hinata takes out her pencil and determinedly opens her notebook.

Looking up at the board, she dutifully starts to copy down words written across it in scraggly, chalky script into her own fluid handwriting. Her focus is solely dedicated to her work, as always.

But when a certain name is called, she stills.

Hinata's whole world comes crashing down around her.

…

…

_"Uchiha, Sasuke."_

* * *

><p>► My first Naruto High School AU fic! I can see why they are so popular now — they're addicting to write. So how'd ya'll like it? I apologize if it was boring! I wanted to do a good job introducing the characters and feel for the plot. If there is any confusion by the way, don't be afraid to ask. Basically Hiashi and Mikoto used to date until the relationship fell apart. Thus the little ones were separated without understanding what was going on; it's based loosely on what happened to me as a child. Now Sasuke and Hinata are going to see each other for the first time after ten years . . . No it will not be instant love. Will there be attraction or chemistry apparent? Maybe, but my focus is on trying to stay true to the characters while also developing a realistic romance. So if you're willing to come along for the ride, I promise I will do my best!<p>

Oh, and if you're curious about what other pairings may crop up in the fic, just ask me and I'll more than likely spoil you. I can't resist spilling details about virtually anything to save my life. *cough* With that, um, I would appreciate you all's thoughts? Credit for the fabulous summary by the way goes to the equally fabulous _Cubix Stitches_. Thanks again, girl! :)

**E›** tifa .


	2. dos

-×-×-  
>Blooming Moon<br>-×-×-

**"U**chiha, Sasuke."

Her pencil slides across her notebook page, a startled line, and she looks up at the desk across from hers, at the person who is sliding into it. Her heart races and beats like a drum against her ribs. Her large, white eyes fill with complete and utter incredulity. "W-what," is all she manages to stammer, as the image of a little boy, spiky-haired and chubby-cheeked and baby-faced, flashes across the surface of her mind. But most vivid of all, is the memory of everything she saw on that unforgettable, rainy morning, through her twinkling tears; his tiny hands pressed against a car window, breath misting up the glass as he mutely gazed back at her, bruises flowering in his coal-black eyes.

The indigo-haired girl takes a moment to gape at the boy who used to live with her as a child, and had once even been her closest friend in elementary school. Her silence is only because of bittersweet shock, but not because she needs a moment to recall who he actually is. There is no way she could ever forget. Hinata blinks several times, shaking her throbbing head somewhat as if eager to rectify a mistake, and correctly identify the dark-haired young man in front of her. It can't. It isn't.

But it is, it's him, a ghost from her past.

Uchiha, Sasuke.

He is sitting at a desk not too far from her, effortlessly slouched in his seat, his thick, spiky locks as unruly as ever. A frown tugs at narrow, thin lips, marring an otherwise smooth and unblemished facade. Uncanny ebony eyes glazed with laid-back confidence peer straight ahead at the chalkboard. One hand grips a ballpoint pen between its long, graceful fingers.

She has not seen or heard from Uchiha Sasuke in ten years, but suddenly here he is, sitting right across from her. Hinata remains perfectly still, barely breathing, as her mind struggles to catch up with her furiously pounding heart.

She doesn't know how long she stares at him like that, so when she feels her cell phone tremble within the confines of her bag, she jumps a little. Her lungs begin to function again. A guilty shade of pink flushes over her cheeks. Reaching down, the flustered girl pulls her cell phone out, flipping it open to stare at it blankly. The screen blinks with blue light. It only takes her three seconds to read it, but for Hinata it feels like a century. As the meaning of the words sink slowly in, her eyes grow as wide as saucers.

**To: Hinata**  
><strong>From: TenTen<strong>  
><em>so, any hot guys? be honest!<em>  
><em>none here. gawd I'm so bored. :(<em>

Face erupting in a bright blush, Hinata quickly snaps her flip phone shut and pushes it back down into her bag. She redirects her line of sight elsewhere, biting the inside of her lip.

The rest of the class passes by in a blur, Hinata mostly trying in vain to pay attention while really thinking about Sasuke. Pushing her pencil across her notebook, she wonders about his eyes that look so solidly dark, so intense. A chilling thought comes to her — he has to be the new student all the girls in her homeroom were talking about. The thought alone makes Hinata doubly blush as she recalls their exact phrasing to describe him.

_Oh-so dark, mysterious, and handsome . . ._

…

…

The bell rings, signaling the end of first period. Packing up her books and pencils, Hinata stands up, and pauses for a second. She watches Sasuke rise to his feet, sling his book bag over his shoulder, and then automatically glance upwards. The moment he does she freezes up. The tips of her ears turn red. Does he recognize her? Does he want to come over and talk to her? No, of course not, she quickly tells herself, head lowering to let her cobalt tresses fall into her face. She doesn't wait to find out for certain either — instead deigning to all but flee into the hallway like a terrified bunny rabbit, her long hair fanning out behind her like sable ribbons intertwined with azure.

"Hey!" TenTen greets her a little too cheerfully, having just come out of the class right beside Hinata's. There is a glint apparent in her almond eyes. "Why didn't you text back? Was your lover boy in there?"

"No." Hinata shakes her head insistently. Then she is quick to add, "And Naruto isn't my . . . lover boy."

The brunette laughs, waving her hands. "I'm kidding! Besides, there's no way in hell Naruto is smart enough to be in an AP class. Not everyone is as smart as you, you know."

"But I'm not — "

"Oh, hush."

They walk to Pre-Calculus together, and it does not go too badly since she has her best friend there right beside her. Hinata is able to actually concentrate since Sasuke is not anywhere in sight, and relaxes. She feels lighter, as if a lead weight has been lifted from her shoulders. She answers practice problem after practice problem with general ease, stopping to give TenTen assist every once in a while. But when their teacher starts to drone on monotonously and scratches away at the chalkboard about proper technique, TenTen makes funny faces behind his back; Hinata cannot contain the mirthful giggles that fall away from her lips, struggling to muffle them behind an upraised hand.

"What's so funny?" Mr. Yakushi snaps, bespectacled eyes zooming around the full classroom.

His slate gray gaze lands on Hinata and TenTen, who sit perfectly poised at their desks. Their notebooks are open, their textbooks turned to the right page, and they are holding their writing utensils resolutely. They both smile sweetly, the picture perfect students; he continues veering his gaze, not once suspecting the two girls of a thing. It makes it harder not to laugh at his obliviousness, though Hinata feels the tiniest sliver of guilt creep into her chest, even if he is a bit on the creepy side.

When she informs TenTen of this, she actually coos and pinches a pinkening cheek. "Aw! You're so cute!"

Alas, their time together ends all too soon, with mathematical homework on the first day to boot. TenTen reaches over and pats Hinata comfortingly, offering a bright smile. She knows the girl all too well. "Don't stress yourself out too much, okay? I'll see you later. Today is going to be a great day!"

Hinata quickly smiles to hide her discomfort and hesitance, nodding. "Y-yeah."

…

…

AP European History and Spanish III pass by smoothly enough, to Hinata's overwhelming relief. So far she has had yet to see the brooding Uchiha again, and hopes that it will stay that way. Art, besides the unfavorable accident involving her foot and a paint can, also goes well. The eclectic Mr. Hatake, who insists on being called Sensei, arrives fifteen minutes late. When a student pipes up and demands to know where he was, the silver-haired man only smiles charmingly. His dark eye glints; with his penchant for wearing high-collared shirts that conceal the lower portion of his face, it is rumored around the school that not even he knows what his own face looks like. "Grasshopper," Mr. Hatake intones mysteriously, "I was lost on the road to life."

Despite his excessive tardiness, Mr. Hatake's excellent reputation precedes him — he allows his students' creativity to flourish without boundaries, giving everyone paint, pencils, paper, and simply saying, "Go for it; Do what you feel." Then he sinks down into his large, lounge chair in the front of the classroom, and starts flipping through a bright orange book.

Hinata has possessed a love for drawing ever since she can remember. As a child she used to indulge in it, but after Mikoto and Sasuke left, her father made it clear he didn't approve. Over the years, he maintained that it was a useless hobby with no benefit to someone as distinguished as a Hyuuga. With every word, his reproach imprinted itself in her mind with startling clarity.

So knowing she is in the safety of this colorful classroom, filled to the brim with truly stunning pieces of works of varying styles as far as the eye can see . . . the urge to draw makes her fingers twitch.

Before she knows it, the definite image of a picturesque image has formed around softened pencil strokes, and filled in with vivid colors. A boy's grinning face stares back at her, blue eyes filled with such life, capable of melting the coldest of hearts with just one look, one glance. Hinata feels a shy smile blossom onto her pink lips as she gazes at it fondly, imagining that that grin, that look, that glance is being directed at her. It sends her heart aflutter.

This sketch is as close as she will get to ever being with Naruto, and that is the reality. They did not even have any classes together this year; at least in freshman year they had shared Algebra, sophomore year lunch, and now, nothing.

"It's quite good," a bemused voice announces from behind her, making Hinata nearly jump out of her bones. She twirls to see Mr. Hatake observing her latest creation, nodding. If his mouth was visible, perhaps the faintest smile would have even tugged it upwards. "Who knew you had it in you?"

"T-thank you, S-Sensei," she squeaks, her cheeks blushing violently. Hinata's chin promptly brushes the top of her chest as she is unable to keep from bowing, flowing hair framing her ruddy face. Mr. Hatake chuckles and places a warm, steady hand on her slender shoulder, before spinning her back around to face the array of art mediums just waiting to be sampled.

"You can thank me by creating more."

…

…

When lunch time comes around Hinata and TenTen meet up at her locker, and then the two of them make a beeline for the cafeteria. After waiting in line for TenTen's food, Hinata having packed her own like always, the two teenaged girls head outside. Both have always preferred the zen of the outdoors versus the crowded, claustrophobic feel of an enclosed space teeming with unpleasant smells, not to mention the loud din of rowdy teenagers. They eventually make it to the edge of the courtyard and sit at their usual spot — underneath the largest tree in the entire school. When Hinata sits down on stone bench beneath it, she notices that it is extra cool to the touch, no doubt attributed to the noticeable drop in temperature. The indigo-haired girl shivers from the damp chill.

"Do you want to head back inside?" TenTen instantly implores, her cinnamon brows pinching together with concern. "Because I don't mind."

"N-no, it's fine," Hinata reassures her. She glances at TenTen's casual attire: Capri pants, a pastel pink t-shirt, and tennis shoes. "But . . . what about you?"

"I'm just peachy. A lot tougher than you," the brunette teases, playfully elbowing her in the side. "How is it you're cold though? You're always wearing that same damned hoodie." TenTen eyes the offensive muted jade green top in question. Nothing but sheer hilarity shines in her russet orbs however, belying her words.

She smiles affectionately, shaking her head. TenTen always teases her about her choice of clothes on a daily basis, but the indigo-haired girl knows it is simply that — lighthearted teasing. If such comments were to come from someone else, they would more than likely be meant to strike a nerve. With TenTen though, there is no unkindness or spite present in her airy tone. It is just her way of showing affection, pure and simple. She has had time to get used to it and even come to enjoy it since their early years in middle school.

For some time, they sit in compatible silence as they dine on their separate lunches. TenTen finishes her apple rather quickly, washing it down with her chocolate milk in a quick series of gulps, before moving onto her pizza; Hinata meanwhile takes small, dainty bites out of her onigiri. The way they both eat are discernible throwbacks to their home lives; while TenTen lives with two loving, doting parents who allow her to eat as much as her insatiable appetite pleases, Hinata has lived a life where proper etiquette and manners are everything.

Hinata takes a sip of her bottle of iced tea, looking up at the sky. Earlier, the sun had been shining. It had peeked sheepishly through the clouds, still mostly hidden by its delicate, white refuge. Now the sun is nowhere in sight, and the former high blue has taken on a somber, leaden color. It looks like it may rain.

"Your dad still picking you up?" TenTen inquires, reading her thoughts almost immediately. Hinata sighs, picking at her food silently, biting her lip.

"He said he would. He promised . . ."

Her friend releases a very unladylike snort in response. "He says a lot of things, doesn't he?" she retorts, uncharacteristic disdain dripping from her words. The beginnings of a frown curve TenTen's mouth downward. "Honestly, Hinata, he needs to start treating you better."

"TenTen," she begins to reason with her usual feathery tone.

"All right, all right," the brunette says, issuing forth a soft sigh. "Just know that if you change your mind, you can always catch the bus home with me. Mom complains you don't come around enough." She then takes a bite of her pepperoni pizza, chewing thoughtfully. Then, it looks like a switch has been flipped, an effervescent light bulb turning on that makes Hinata feel nervous almost straightaway. "Oh! So, who's the hot guy in your first period? Hm?"

Hinata's opal eyes widen dramatically in her pale face; "W-What guy?"

"The one who distracted you so much you couldn't bother texting back." TenTen grins at the uneasy expression that crawls across her delicate features. She takes the opportunity to reach over for one of Hinata's sweet rice balls, before popping into her mouth. "Mmm! So, who is it?"

Luckily for Hinata, right at that very second, the lunch bell dings; she is so pleased to hear it, she practically wilts with relief. TenTen notices this in turn and stares at her friend meaningfully. "You got lucky, missy — rest assured you will be telling me about your first period hottie later!"

…

…

When Hinata arrives in her last period of the day, the room is already full. Mortified, she scans the students to see if she recognizes anyone. There is a familiar head of bright, rose-pink hair — Sakura, who is sitting in the very last row. A girl by the name of Karin, with ruby hair and even more brilliant red eyes behind black-framed glasses, sits in a desk beside her. Shino is in the middle, perfectly silent and unreadable. Seeing him puts her heart at ease; he has always been nothing but polite to her in the past, and that means they can possibly work together if given the option. Then in the front row . . .

Hinata blanches.

Sitting down, Sasuke's chin is resting on interlaced fingers hovering above an opened binder, propped up by his elbows on the desk. A bored expression is etched across his chiseled profile.

"Just find your name and have a seat, miss," the teacher tells her, a friendly smile adorning her rosette lips. She is on the younger side, with earthy green eyes and brown hair in a simple yet elegant plait. Unlike the other teachers, she looks warm and inviting, donning a modest pink dress that highlights a womanly figure — Ms. Hanae, also known as the most desired teacher in all of Konoha High, not only for her natural beauty but her eagerness to help her students. She is smart, kind, while always maintaining a firm hand in the classroom. It is hard not to respect a woman like that.

Ms. Hanae gestures to a few of the empty desks in the front row, and sure enough there is Hinata's name written neatly in fine print.

"Um, t-thank you," she says meekly. Hinata winces inwardly at how much her voice quivers. Blood rushing to her face, she bows slightly, and hurries to take her seat. Her fellow students exchange amused glances and chuckle lowly, at her stuttering or overly politeness, she is not sure. Hinata sinks down in her seat, trying to appear as least visible as possible. She sneaks a glance out of the corner of her eyes at Sasuke in fear of him noticing her bumbling awkwardness, and sure enough his piercing gaze is fixed on her.

The teacher begins speaking, commanding everyone's attention with her melodic voice.

"Now that everyone has found their seats, I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Ms. Hanae and I will be instructing you all year . . ."

Class time officially begins, and Hinata is thankful. She needs every ounce of distraction she can get. When the English teacher has completed her introduction, she starts to distribute packets detailing the curriculum that will be covered in the upcoming year. Everyone is instructed to underline and circle important sections as dictated, which is a simple enough task; Hinata goes about doing this wholeheartedly, concentrating exclusively on listening to the sweet yet stern voice of her teacher.

"Now that we have all of that out of the way, I say we do something more fun and worthwhile!" Ms. Hanae exclaims, cheerfully clapping her hands together in appeasement.

The rice balls she had for lunch earlier curdles in Hinata's stomach, as she drags her gaze away from her opened notebook.

"It's time to get to know one another. It's always a good idea to start off the new year by introducing one's self, wouldn't you all agree? Though," she pauses, glancing at the ticking hands of a rounded clock hanging on the wall; "Looks like we're nearly out of time already. Just try to brainstorm at least seven questions for the person you will be paired up with tomorrow!"

A perfectly manicured hand shoots up enthusiastically into the air, waving back and forth.

"Yes?"

"Ms. Hanae, can we pick our partners?" Karin asks.

"Yes, can we?" Sakura adds sweetly, which is odd considering neither girl is known for typically getting along with the other one. Then she realizes both girls are looking at Sasuke. In fact, every young person of the female persuasion present has bubbly hearts sparkling in their eyes as they leer at the dark-haired Uchiha.

"Maybe, maybe not." There is a metallic jangle, and Ms. Hanae smiles. "Class is dismissed. I'll see you all tomorrow!"

Hinata strains with practically every muscle in her body to not look over at Sasuke, whose desk is merely three seats to her left. But she does anyway, hugging her books against the front of her body, pulse drowning out every other sound.

He already has a crowd of girls encircling him, animatedly chattering away about tomorrow's assignment. At this point, Sasuke's expression is unreadable. Realizing just how different they are, Hinata looks away embarrassedly and bites the inside of her cheek. While she is an awkward and gracelesss individual, no more noticeable than a small, insignificant violet amongst a garden of sterling roses, Sasuke is the exact opposite.

He will have no problem finding a willing partner amongst their peers.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So that was the second chapter for ya! I know they haven't gotten a chance to talk yet, but in the next chapter I can definitely promise they do! One on one. Alone. Ooh yeaaah. ;D Haha. It was my favorite one to write if that is any consolation! Before I forget, I gotta give a shout out to my awesome bestie _jumun_ aka Brittany, who was so gracious as to provide me with her beta'ing services as always! Ooh and I know Halloween is coming up, so I just wanted to say that I hope all of my readers have fun, eat lots of candy, and more importantly, stay safe. :)

P.S. Did anyone notice Ms. Hanae's uncanny similarity to any particular character? ;D I'll give you a hint, she's from the KH/FF universe~!

**E›** tifa .


	3. tres

-×-×-  
>Blooming Moon<br>-×-×

**T**he sky opens up and begins to rain. It is a light drizzle, barely noticeable at first. Crystalline droplets merely cascade from the azure heavens like delicate vertical diamonds. Then, the droplets grow bigger and soon enough turn into a heavy downpour, splashing onto the earthy soil and foliage below.

Caught unawares, Hinata lets out a soft squeak as she leaps up from the stone bench she has been sitting on, trying desperately to gather up her notes in her hands and place them inside of her bag. The ink is already beginning to bleed across the lined paper.

She has been waiting for her father to pick her up for the past half hour, but he seems to be late. He promised, but he must have another emergency patient . . . She chews her pink lip and narrows her eyes in deep thought. Waiting around won't do her any good. Her best option is to hurry on foot home before the wind picks up and the storm worsens even more. The sooner Hinata hurries, the sooner she will be able to take a proper, warm shower, work on homework, drink hot jade-green tea, and forget about everything else. Her hair and clothes are already starting to dampen, but it doesn't matter; it is better than being a bother to anyone she knows by asking for a ride at the very last minute, she thinks, glancing down at her cell phone.

She starts walking briskly along the sidewalk, protectively pressing her bag against her chest. Mind too focused on putting one step in front of the other swiftly, Hinata doesn't even notice the presence of a sleek, black car creeping up the road, until it stops beside her.

A window is rolled down. Pearlescent hues meet pools of onyx. Sasuke. Uchiha Sasuke stares back at her, his angled visage stoic as ever.

"Need a ride?" The sound of a deep, dark voice, comparable to ironed silk cuts through the rhythmic patter of the rain, causing Hinata's heart to skip beats and a blush to rise to her cheeks. With a start, Hinata realizes that this is the first time she has heard Sasuke's voice in ten years.

He does not sound anything at all like she remembers.

"Um," her voice comes out wobbly as her mind struggles to come to grips with this surreal situation. For a split second, everything is a blur; it is like she is looking through glass. She worries she will faint on the spot. The teenaged girl stammers, her usual gentle tone barely managing to carry her words across the space between them. "Are y-you sure?"

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't willing," he snaps. Sasuke's harsh tone makes Hinata flinch, and unconsciously take a step back.

Looking up, Hinata observes the sodden, taunting clouds increasing in mass, only darkening in color. From the sound of the rumbling thunder, the storm won't be letting up anytime soon. Still . . . Almost at once, Hinata is very much aware of the fact that she is soaked to the bone. Her clothes cling closely to her lithe form, thanks to the bitter, cold rain rushing down her skin in clear rivulets. Hinata's long, indigo hair slithers over her shoulders and back, limp and dripping. A hot pink flush warms her nose and pallid cheeks. Uncertainly, she hugs her arms tighter against her chest. Timidly, she stutters, "But I'm wet . . ."

"I know. I'm not blind," he states, bluntly, never once looking away from her.

"I'm sorry . . . it's just . . ." Hinata falters when Sasuke skeptically arches a raven eyebrow at her. She gulps whilst drops of cold water continue to sporadically plop against her heated flesh, causing her to shiver from the stark contrast in temperature.

"Fine, then."

With an abrupt whir of movement, he starts to roll the passenger window up.

"W-Wait!"

For a split second, Hinata looks horribly embarrassed, shocked that she has been so uncharacteristically bold, so loud. She flushes, a faint rosy color settling across the bridge of her nose. Bowing her head, she murmurs awkwardly in consent, "Okay."

Hinata slowly, hesitantly, approaches the side of the car. Her knees feel unstable, her heart running a marathon. It's an inexplicable feeling, getting into an unfamiliar car with a boy she once knew. As Hinata's hand makes contact with the door, it slowly swings outward, revealing a messy-haired, dark-eyed teen, leaning back with one hand casually resting on the wheel, and the other on the armrest, watching her. Flustered, Hinata looks away; she promptly settles herself inside of the car's interior, hands slightly shaking as she buckles herself in. The blast of warm air that greets her hello is a welcome reprieve from the penetrating ice-cold of the outdoors.

It isn't enough to help her let her guard down though. Hinata hunches her shoulders, as if hoping that will make her appear smaller than she already is. She religiously keeps her face hidden behind the dark curtain of her long, damp hair. Lifting her lashes, she whispers timidly, "Thank you."

"It's nothing." He doesn't even look at her. He merely stares out the window, watching beads of aqua roll down and slip and disappear from view. He pauses and then inquires, "Where do you live?"

"The same p-place," Hinata replies, fiddling with her fingers self-consciously. She watches Sasuke's expression darken through the corner of her eyes.

"Ah," is the mild reply she receives.

Sitting next to the boy from her childhood, now grown up, driving in silence through the pouring rain, Hinata cannot help but think it is strange. The oddness of it all actually surpasses the unusual appearance of the youth — he looks the same yet not. He's grown into a teenaged boy with clear alabaster skin, tousled, black hair, and a scowl comparable to the sodden, rainwater-filled clouds hanging in the sky. And yet for all of the difference, she can still see glimpses of that smiling baby-faced, little boy from her youth. She almost feels like she is a child again, watching little Sasuke refuse to take a bath, or running off the boy who tugged her hair on the playground. Even now . . .

"Who was supposed to pick you up?" Sasuke suddenly questions, his voice sounding cool and smooth like water flowing down rocks in a stream. It startles her out of her thoughts, and she blinks, staring at him. Then Hinata's light eyes widen in realization that he is waiting for her answer, and she's just staring at him like a complete idiot. Her face brightens with color.

"S-sorry!" she apologizes in a rush. She clears her throat and continues, softly, "My dad was supposed to . . . He must've got caught up at work." She cannot help the intense disappointment that bleeds into her words.

Sasuke snorts. "I remember. Still working too much to bother being around, I see."

Hinata isn't sure what to say in response for a second, some part of her distantly agreeing. But like a good daughter, she replies as firmly as she can manage, "It's not his fault! He has an important job that requires a lot of his t-time." She adds for good measure, like it will make all the difference in the world, "He saves people's lives e-every day."

The response she receives is Sasuke's mouth compressing into a tense, thin line. The dark-haired teen's hands tighten on the wheel as he keeps his eyes veered on the road straight ahead. Sharply, he retorts, "He's an ass." There isn't an ounce of remorse present in his tone. "Anyone who gives more time to strangers over their own family is pathetic. He doesn't even have time to pick you up from school. What does that say about him?"

There is a brief, awkward pause.

Disconcerted, Hinata glances wordlessly downwards into her lap. She can't bring herself to protest Sasuke's words, recalling the turbulent history between their parents.

It all started when Hiashi met Mikoto at the hospital. She came in with a broken arm, and he treated her. They started dating shortly after that — maybe it was the way she smiled brightly despite the pain, maybe it was the gentle look she gave her darling Sasuke in order to reassure him mommy was fine and said, "See, Dr. Hyuuga is taking perfectly good care of me".

Nonetheless, he fell, hard. She remembered him talking about her fondly at the beginning, praising Mikoto for being everything her mother was. She was the first woman to bring him out of his shell since the death of his late wife.

But there was no escaping the less flattering rumors floating through the halls whenever family members came by to visit: About the pitiful, divorcee mother who ran away from an abusive home. About the older son who she left behind. About the younger, solemn-faced son who was nothing but a brat.

They dated for a year before they decided it was time for Mikoto to move in. In sparing instances, Sasuke and Hinata had met, true. Moving in together was a whole different experience though.

"I don't want to live with a stupid girl!" the young raven-haired boy cried upon seeing Hinata face to face, who promptly burst into tears.

The two children avoided each other for the first few weeks. Sasuke would scowl, Hinata would cower, and family mealtime was a painful affair. He made his feelings clear; he did not like Hiashi, and he especially did not like cootie-infested girls, which included the likes of Hinata. It turned out he generally felt distrust towards the opposite gender on account of constantly being harassed by them. "My little love tomato is shaping up to be quite the heartbreaker, you see," Mikoto would coo, pinching her son's cheeks. She then would continue on to scold lightly, "But he'll never get a girlfriend if he doesn't shape up."

"Mom! Don't call me that!" Sasuke yelled with flaming cheeks. "And I don't want a girlfriend!" He added huffily, sneaking a glance at Hinata shortly before retreating to the safety of his room.

One day, Hinata was stretched out on the champagne-colored carpet of her bedroom, sketching to her heart's content. Mikoto walked in and saw what she was doing, kneeling down beside her. Hinata shyly veered her alabaster gaze upwards, the tips of her ears turning pink, before looking down again, self-consciously covering up her drawing.

"I didn't know you liked to draw, Hinata."

The little girl nodded shyly, before remembering her manners. "H-Hai. Father d-doesn't like it though. He says it's a w-waste of time . . . " Her pale eyes grew as large as saucers as she stared up at Mikoto with fear and apprehension. "Am I g-going to be i-in t-trouble?"

"No, of course not!" The elder woman was quick to reassure Hinata, who visibly wilted in relief. A look of thoughtfulness crawled across her graceful features for a moment. "In fact, I think I'll have a talk with your father about it." Patting the top of Hinata's head affectionately, Mikoto then left hastily in a whirlwind of fragrant, flowery perfume and swishing fabric. True to her word, Mikoto returned not too long afterwards with something hidden behind her back. That was how little Hinata became acquainted with her first official sketchbook.

The next day during dinner, Mikoto abruptly spoke up and asked, "Hinata, how are you liking your new sketchbook?"

The young girl jerked, startled, a new blush attacking her cheeks. Underneath Hiashi's reproachful gaze, she straightened her posture. "I . . . I like it very much, Mikoto-san," little Hinata murmured, lowering her eyelashes.

"Good," she replied cheerfully. "Sometime you will have to show Hiashi and I your artworks. I'm sure they're all very lovely. Don't you agree, honey?"

Her father nodded, his ice-white eyes softening. "I would like to see what my daughter spends so much time working on."

Hinata had beamed and told them both yes, of course. But what really came as a surprise was when Sasuke had unexpectedly inquired if he could see her drawings as well. He didn't look at her as he spoke, instead concentrating hard on picking at his potato noodles with daikon. Hinata had been under the impression that Sasuke did not like her one bit, and found her icky in fact.

She delivered him a look of confusion whilst he kept his head bowed, discerning the pinkish hue shading his complexion. Eventually Hinata whispered a hushed yet monumental, "S-sure."

They spent the rest of the evening in her room, poring over her sketchbook. From that point on, they were inseparable. Sasuke always looked at her like she had something important to say, a feeling that was foreign to Hinata for the longest time. They shared the tomato blossoms Mikoto made for the caprese salad and ate them underneath the table, smiling and giggling between bites. He would tell her she was special because she didn't hate tomatoes or like pink like most girls. When the baby bird fell from its nest in the cherry blossom tree, Hinata cried and Sasuke promised he would climb up and return it to its mother, and he did. Sasuke defended her valiantly from bullies while she herself helped him hide unknowingly from obstinate admirers.

He told her about his older brother, named Itachi, and how much he missed him. He never talked about his father, and Hinata knew better than to push him to. Only ever once did he willingly bring him up; it was after Mikoto had read them a bedtime story, and they were supposed to be in their own beds, fast asleep. Sasuke snuck back into Hinata's room, climbing into bed with her.

"He's a monster, just like in the story," he said gravely, and she did not need clarification to understand who _he_ was. "And I have to protect my mommy from monsters. No one else can." Hinata responded by lacing her fingers through his.

She herself confided in Sasuke about the death of her mother. "She was r-really b-beautiful, like a fairy tale p-princess." When she showed him the framed photograph, he nodded, gave her a once over, then nodded again.

"You look just like her," he asserted, and she blushed so hard she felt like she was going to explode. She insisted she didn't, but shut up when he demanded to know if she was calling him a liar. Sasuke bragged proudly, "My mommy said I look like her too," and he blushed himself when Hinata said he was pretty for a boy.

While Sasuke and Hinata grew closer, Hiashi and Mikoto's relationship unraveled from the seams.

It started with an argument that the two overhead through an opened window. Hiashi had been offered a promotion at the hospital, and he accepted it without first confiding with Mikoto. Her father already worked a large amount of time at the hospital, and Mikoto lamented the fact that he would be spending even less quality time at home. She was right as it turned out. He never made it on time for supper, and when he did, there was no longer a convivial atmosphere at the dinner table. The terse conversations that were had between the adults was subdued, the silences icy. Worse were the screaming matches, which were one-sided seeing as Mikoto was the only one to get emotional.

In the end, fed up with coming second to Hiashi's job, cooking and cleaning for an increasingly cold man who never deigned her with so much as a tender kiss or "I love you", Mikoto had packed up her and Sasuke's things and left. The rainy morning Mikoto drove away had been a whirlwind of bitter emotions for little Hinata; it had understandably, without a doubt been that much worse for younger Sasuke.

Looking at Sasuke now, Hinata bites her lip. They have reached a stop light, and the car is at rest.

"I'm sorry," she automatically tells him sincerely, genuinely. Before she knows it, Hinata is reaching over in a comforting fashion to gently touch the hand positioned on the wheel. There is barely contact, but from what she feels, there is calloused, tough skin. A hint of what a hard, labor-filled life he has lived in the years since the last time they have seen each other. That isn't unexpected to Hinata. That isn't what makes her pull back abruptly, the blush heighten on her delicate features. No, it is an unmistakable jolt, like an electric spark that does that.

Hinata tries to retreat behind the safety of her hair once more, so that Sasuke can only see a small glimpse of her forehead and downcast eyelashes. Her hands are shaking again; she tries to concentrate solely them, pushing her index fingers together like a bad habit. It is in fact a bad habit, and has been ever since she can remember.

"You still do that?" he asks quietly, the smallest trace of amusement ringing in his voice.

The dark-haired teen sitting beside her watches this simple action, transfixed by it, lips twitching, and then he lifts his purely liquid stare to peer directly at her. It's almost as if he wants to say something. Hinata feels herself flush healthily like an overgrown strawberry under his intense scrutiny, shifting imperceptibly in her seat.

Then a car behind them beeps its horn, loudly. They both jump a little.

"Hey, move it asshole! People have places to go! Hot GIRLS to SEE!"

Hinata knows that high-pitched yet undeniably masculine voice anywhere. "N-Naruto-kun," she whispers, blood draining from her face and leaving it in turn a sickly, ashen-white.

Horrified, she slumps down into her seat, fingers clenching her bag against her like a life support. She casts a furtive opal glance into the rearview mirror. Sure enough, she glimpses a honey blond-haired boy waving his hand frantically in the air, cerulean eyes blazing. She forgets about the live current that passed between her and Sasuke, sitting so closely to her just moments before. All she can think about Uzumaki Naruto, Naruto Uzumaki.

Sasuke scowls, then casts a disbelieving look at her once her words finally hit home. "Wait. You know him?"

Hinata lowers her gaze, nodding, missing the look of dissatisfaction in Sasuke's eyes. She blushes even brighter, as red as a tomato, reverting back to what she had been doing before they had been interrupted, pressing the tips of her index fingers together anxiously. "Naruto-kun is a c-class mate of mine," she informs him anxiously.

His hands flex on the wheel. " . . . Figures," he drags out at last.

She does not understand what Sasuke means by that exactly, but refrains from questioning him when she observes the annoyed expression that's taken residence on his facial features. Having no idea why Sasuke's mood has shifted, Hinata wisely decides to keep her mouth shut; she cannot help the gasp that escapes her when she sees Sasuke hastily roll down his window, and crudely gesture at Naruto by lifting up his middle finger. Smirking at the irate bellow Naruto releases, he rolls the window back up, and steps on the gas, speeding through the onslaught of rainfall.

Sasuke stills, his heavy gaze roaming until they find and focus on a large, two-story, ivory house under a cherry blossom tree coming up on the right side of the road. Surprise floods onto his face, and he exhales sharply, as if he has been dealt a physical blow. A muscle clenches in his jaw. His lips part and he mutters powerful words quietly, so quietly, Hinata almost misses them — but not quite. "It looks the exact same as . . ." He stops, visibly disturbed by his own musings.

_It looks the exact same as the day when my mom and I left._

He stops at the end of her driveway, and she almost thinks that for a second he will not go any further, that he will not drive up to the house.

It is a foolish thought to have, she scolds herself; for just a second passes before he inches as close as he can to her house. Fumbling with her belongings again, she worries her lower lip between her small, white teeth.

Hinata looks up through her thick, dark lashes and says sincerely once more, "Thank you."

The rain outside intensifies, falling in heavy sheets and hitting the outside of the car like diamond bullets. The sky gives out a deep reverberation, roaring load enough to nearly drown out what Hinata feels is so blatantly apparent to her within the contained space — the erratic sound of her own heartbeat. Her pulse pounds in her head like the crash of the surf, drowning out the inclement weather brewing outside. With each sluggish second that passes they both simply stare at each other, wordlessly.

"I . . . I have to go," he mutters after what seems like forever.

She nods quickly, mumbles another thank you, before opening the car door and making a quick dash towards the safety of her house. Hinata does not turn to look or so much as see Sasuke leave, hearing instead the roar of the engine fading as he drives off and vanishes down the road, and away from her house.

Away from her, more like, she thinks with the slightest tinge of sadness.

…

…

After a shower, and fresh change of clothes later, Hinata sits on her bed with a cup full of freshly made green tea. For a while, she works on homework, though her Pre-Calculus book stays firmly wedged at the bottom of her bag. Hinata gets a glimpse of it just once, and it is like she is back in the car with Sasuke again. In her mind he has always looked like he was seven, all messy, dark hair and toothy smiles for Mikoto, Hinata, and sometimes even her father. Then Hinata reminiscences over the way the muted dashboard light played over his pale skin, and the way the midnight-blue of his hair differentiated sharply with the angles of his face. But mostly of cold facade he now adorns, the seemingly permanent downward curve of his mouth into a scowl.

Hinata looks down and sees that she has written his name into the short question she is supposed to be brainstorming for tonight's English's homework.

_What are your hobbies now, Sasuke?_

Thankful for the fact she always uses a pencil, Hinata swiftly erases the entire question and starts over again from there. The rest of the inquiries she comes up with are mostly generic and safe. Staring down at the paper when she is finished, Hinata hopes that they will indeed be able to pick their partners. She wants to work with Shino more than anything.

_Please, Ms. Hanae,_ Hinata silently pleads.

Partnering up with Sasuke is just out of the question; it would be way too uncomfortable. Besides, she is positive he wants nothing to do with her, and the saddening realization makes her heart sink in her stomach. Yet, she knows she cannot really blame him. There is nothing but bad blood between them, and old memories that connect them.

When she is finished with all of her homework, she moseys downstairs to cook dinner for herself. To her revelation, her father is not anywhere to be found. What could be taking so long that he still isn't home? True, he ordinarily comes home late, but tonight she anticipated him home earlier, mainly considering he had sworn to pick her up after school and spend quality time together. That thought alone is enough to make her let loose a quiet sigh.

When TenTen snorted and made the remark implying that her father promised a lot of things without following through with them, Hinata meekly objected. When Sasuke commented on his lack of presence back then and now, Hinata rose to defend him. She has always been genuinely proud of what he does for his job — it is a noble occupation.

That doesn't erase the hurt, the disappointment and sadness that bubbles up within her. That doesn't change the fact that she is standing in an overly spic and shiny kitchen, alone, as per usual. Normally, Hinata pushes those bitter feelings that weigh heavy on her heart down and out of sight. Her coping mechanism of bottling up her emotions and keeping them contained usually works. No one bears witness to her lapse of conviction as a thin sheen of tears pools around her eyes, gleaming on her lashes.

"You shouldn't cry," a small, black-haired adorable boy who always breaks into wide, charming grins at the sight of his mother, and puffs out his chest when he is trying to appear strong in front of others, tells her. "You gotta be tough! Like me!"

She doesn't know why that particular memory flares to life in her mind, but it does. It is enough to snap Hinata out of it. She sucks in a shaky breath. She stands up straighter. She furiously wipes the tears off of her face. Those negative feelings that weigh heavy on her heart are immediately pushed down, and tucked away out of the sight. The ticking clock hanging on the wall announces that the time is 7:16 pm, spurring her to move, to cook, to distract herself.

In the end, she decides on a rice bowl mixed with soy sauce and vegetables. It is a simple but filling dish. She sets aside a bowl for her father, covers it with plastic wrap, and places it in the fridge for safe storage.

When Hinata is brushing her teeth, she examines herself in the sink mirror. Long, indigo hair, moon-like eyes, and ivory skin stare back at her, taunting her. She is a piece of her mother, someone that has been dead since the day of her birth. Maybe that is why her father keeps his distance and stays away from home as much as he does. Thoughts tangle and twist inside Hinata's head, but that one thought in particular stands out from the others even after she has flipped the bathroom light switch, crawled into bed, and settled back on her pillows to look at the ceiling.

Just as Hinata's eyelids grow heavier before finally fluttering shut, sweet slumber cradling her in its comforting arms, the light of a pale, beaming headlight illuminates the Hyuuga drive way.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hope the wait for Sasuke and Hinata finally getting to talk properly was worth it! I'm going to be honest with you guys; this is the first time I've ever properly plotted out a story like this. I'm such a newbie. :) Anyways, I've got lots in store for ya'll, but I'm veering back and forth between this and my other multi-chaptered fic. So please, help a sistah out by giving me some motivation!

Hmm, and I realized I forgot to disclaim my story, so I'm going to do it now — I own nothing! I know, shocking, right?

**E›** tifa .


	4. quatro

-×-×-  
>Blooming Moon<br>-×-×-

**H**inata is at her window as soon she wakes up, pushing aside her purple curtains. She unlatches her window and opens it. The blithe morning breeze tumbles in, swirling through the room. Hinata's handmade windchimes — shards of colored glass strung together with old string — dangle from the ceiling and clink together, playing out gentle and pleasant tinkles. Her moon-colored eyes gaze upwards at the layer of thick, grey clouds that loom overhead in the sky.

It is not raining now, but she does not want to take her chances. This time, Hinata possesses the foresight to be better prepared in case of blustery weather — not leaving the house until she has an umbrella at her disposal.

However, she isn't at all prepared for HurricaneTenTen.

"So, how'd yesterday go?" TenTen asks without any preamble, and Hinata feels a sudden surge of dread swell within her. "Come on, spill the beans already!"

The girl visibly flinches while bowing her head, long, deep blue hair hiding her face. "I-I don't know what you mean."

Her response is immediate. "Don't play dumb with me," TenTen says straight forwardly, not bothering to beat around the bush.

At the sound of her best friend's voice, Hinata snaps her head upwards, her hair flying around her delicate face and shoulder, and looks up to TenTen, her pale eyes teary and pleading. TenTen snorts, "Your teary eyed act will not work on me, missy."

Hinata changes tactics.

"Nor your puppy dog eyes! Honestly, what do you take me for?"

"Sorry . . ." Hinata mumbles timidly, staring down at her lap in defeat. All morning, she has just been so preoccupied with worrying about the weather and panicking over whether or not she will be partnered up with Sasuke, TenTen's promise to grill her later slipped from her mind. "He didn't make it," she murmurs out at last.

"Oh, Hinata . . . " TenTen reaches over to pat her shoulder, her eyes troubled underneath furrowed brows. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hinata shakes her head vigorously again, and although it looks like TenTen wants to push her for more information, she relents. "Okay. But you know if you ever want to talk to me about anything, and I mean anything, you can, right?" When the indigo-haired girl nods, silent still, light opal gaze downcast, TenTen grins. "Good! I'll hold you to it."

Eager for a change of topic, Hinata recalls the text sent earlier that morning to her phone. "Um, wasn't there something else you wanted to talk about?"

"Hm? Oh yeah!" Hinata's head snaps up, and her vision swerves to TenTen just in time to see her friend is leaning in closer towards her, before whispering in a conspiratorial tone, "Fresh and extra juicy too."

While it is true TenTen likes to gather her hair into convenient, boyish buns, and possesses an athletic physique courtesy of running track and playing sports — make no mistake, TenTen Cho is not above idle gossip, or gushing about cute boys. She is far from the stereotypical, one-dimensional tomboy, though secretly Hinata wishes differently at times when she herself is being interrogated. At least she has agreed to drop the subject from before, so she does not have to embarrass herself trying to explain what she knows would have inevitably come up.

Despite herself, she is also intrigued.

As if on cue, TenTen giggles, a good natured smile growing on her face as she remarks, "Have you heard about the new guy? Everybody's talking about him. Well, mainly all the girls. His name is Sasuke Uchiha."

"Eh?" Hinata looks at her best friend with suddenly rounded eyes and pink cheeks, and TenTen wastes no time launching into a lengthy first-hand account about how she overhead Sakura and Ino talking in the bathroom.

Both girls were standing in front of the mirror, re-applying Revlon and Maybelline, gem-colors, gem-stones like magical talismans to already pouty lips and perfectly curled eye-lashes. The amount of tubes and cosmetics containers TenTen claimed she saw them dig out of their too-large bags was awe-inspiring. At the same time, the pair was chattering and twittering about the dark and mysterious heartthrob who had succeeded in capturing the entire school's attention.

Apparently, he moved to Leaf recently with his mother because she found a job in the nearby elementary school as a kindergarten teacher. He is a total genius, evident by the ridiculous amount of AP and Honors classes he is enrolled in. Not only that but he is also outrageously good looking, with messy black hair that slants across his forehead and serious, dark eyes framed by far more lashes than any boy should have. At least, according to a huffy Ino. They both waxed poetic and endlessly praised him:

"He's the most beautiful boy I've ever seen — "

"You're so lucky you're a brainiac, forehead! I know if he was in my class — "

"You'd what? Like he'd go for you, Ino-Pig!"

Amid all this hate-love babble, she sustained an indifferent facial expression as she went about her business, briefly flashing a sociable grin at the two girls whenever they made eye contact. The entire time, she was eager to get out of the bathroom and see if this Sasuke was as hot as everyone alleged he was.

"He even has a fanclub already!" Leaning against a locker next to Hinata's, TenTen wears a revolted facial expression. "How is that even possible?" she asks her, wrinkling her nose.

Given what she witnessed yesterday after class, Hinata is not surprised. She does not express this sentiment however, instead fiddling with her lock, an enigmatic smile curling her mouth upwards. She pulls open the metal door, revealing an impeccably neat and tidy locker filled with books, writing utensils, and a few personal pictures; pulling out the necessary books for the day, Hinata gently inquires, "This coming from you?"

It takes a second, but then TenTen exclaims in retort to her teasing, "Hey! I may be boy crazy, but I am not a freaky stalker. I have some self-respect, you know."

Flicking her gaze in her friend's direction, whatever Hinata is about to say fades away to wisps of nothingness on her lips. Her breath is seized, her eyes wide and almost filling her face. For at the very far end of the hallway, Hinata thinks, no, she knows it is him — Sasuke is walking straight toward them, with more than a few girls from their grade stopping to literally stare, foaming at the mouth.

TenTen does not seem to notice, continuing to heatedly rant, "You'd never catch me dead joining any stupid club dedicated to snooping and worshiping a guy like he is some kind of god. I don't care how hot or how popular he is, it's just embarrassing! How any girl can do that is beyond me."

Exhaling, slowly, trying to quell the ever-present panic, Hinata tries to maintain an unruffled facade or at least a semblance of one. In a feeble attempt to diffuse her unease, she plasters on a smile, albeit weakly. Nodding to imply that she is listening, she tries to keep her attention fixed on TenTen, when in reality she is absorbed in the vain effort of trying to calm down the rapid beating of her heart, which is going haywire.

"There is a difference between crushing on someone and being obsessed with them. Fanclubs just encourage that kind of creepy behavior!"

Sasuke is less than five feet away from her, his penetrating eyes unswervingly looking at her.

"Don't you agree, Hinata?"

A chorus of little sighs from freshman walking by, and out of the corner of one eye Hinata sees Sasuke still walking down the hall, and she watches him disappear into the crowd of people heading to class. She gulps, then, suddenly recalling that unless his schedule has changed, they share the same first period. The only comforting thought Hinata can come up with is that they sit at opposite sides of the classroom. But then she thinks about English at the end of the day, and naturally, it is all she can think about.

"Hinata?"

Taken aback by the sound of her name, Hinata jerks, and notices TenTen is staring at her weirdly.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing!" Hinata chirps and she keeps smiling, tense, until TenTen shrugs disinterestedly, then stating that they should leave before the bell rings.

…

…

It is not unheard of for students to switch classes within the first week of school, so when Mr. Hatake announces there will be another student joining them today from the front of the art room, Hinata does not even look up. She is too intently focused on her sketch laid out before her, slim fingers wrapped around a piece of charcoal. Hinata barely registers Mr. Hatake's following words, "Go on, find a seat, and get to work making something."

Oh, if only she did. Then she would know what is coming. After all, Hinata is the only student sitting by herself at a rounded table with available seats; therefore, it is only logical that the student seeking a place to sit down will come her way. She also would have noticed the foreboding way Kakashi sensei is grinning gleefully behind an upraised orange-colored book, eyes twinkling with barely contained glee as he watches the scene unfold before him. If she could read minds, his thoughts would mortify her. _She is cute, hopelessly shy, but cute. I'm doing the poor girl a favor at this point . . ._

"OI!"

Hinata feels like she has been hit by a thunderbolt, it jolts her, sending her heartbeat suddenly racing at an insane pace that floods her ears in a rush. _T-that voice . . . ! _She would know that distinct voice anywhere. Whirling around clumsily in her seat, her long flowing hair sweeps around her shoulders. She stutters, loudly, "N-Naruto-kun!"

Uzumaki Naruto grins, ear-to-ear, and Hinata cannot control the little unsteady lurch her heart gives as at the sight of her crush. Realizing how her exclamation of his name must have sounded, her face grows redder, and she claps her hands over her mouth. He laughs at that, the sound buoyant and golden. "Mind if I sit with you?" the blond-haired teen asks, gesturing at one of the empty seats at her table.

It is a simple question that requires nothing more than a simple answer, yet Hinata does not want to say something that is foolish. Correction, she chides herself, something else that is foolish. She has embarrassed herself enough as it is. Hinata's cheeks burning a bright, rosy color, she finally she settles on a jerky nod, trying to hide her flushed face from his view.

She can practically hear the foxy smile in his voice. "Great! Thanks a lot!" Pulling out a chair, he sits down cheerfully. "Hey, uh, are you okay? Your face is turning pretty red . . . do you want to visit the nurse?"

Hinata's cheeks heat up even more. "N-no, I'm f-fine!" she hastily reassures Naruto. She internally gasps as he leans closer towards her from across the table, narrowing blue orbs in intense concentration. Downright terrified and feeling utterly defenseless, all the girl can do is freeze up.

"I don't know. I'm not a doctor or anything, but you look like you may have a fever. What did you say your name was again?"

"I-I didn't," she whispered. It sort of hurts, when he asks her that, but it cannot be helped. She has such difficulty interacting with Naruto, so every exchange she happens to have with him is branded into her mind. Still, three years of being in the same high school, sharing now three classes together, and he still cannot even recall her name. "It's H-Hinata."

"Ah! Mine's Naruto, though you already knew that!" he adds with a flirtatious wink, and it is too much, too much for her violently thumping heart to take — thus, the inconceivable happens.

Hinata passes out, cold, the last thing she sees being a multitude of flashing stars as oblivion closes in around her.

Her body hits the floor as if in slow motion, followed by a loud commotion as panic and confusion buzzes amongst her peers. Naruto, wide-eyed, merely gapes with a slackened jaw before being firmly instructed by Mr. Hatake to pick up Hinata and carry her to the nurse's office.

"Sure thing!" Naruto says. In truth, he would have anyway. He may not have really known the girl, but the fact she passed out on the spot after he winked at her . . . weirdly enough, he feels responsible. He picks her up, easily, and salutes the teacher before walking off.

On his way to the nurse's office, Naruto is intersected in the hallway by a student who is just coming out of the male restroom. The teenaged boy seems vaguely familiar now, the more that he glares at him. He has jagged black hair and impossibly pale, light skin. The most striking of his physical appearance are his completely black eyes, bottomless and churning like the ocean. Upon spotting him with the lax, unconscious girl hanging limply in his arms like a living china doll, the youth takes a menacing step towards him, those creepy black eyes narrowing into slits.

"What happened to her? Why are you carrying Hinata like that?"

"Uh . . ." Naruto feels intensely uncomfortable. He shifts the unconscious Hinata to rest more naturally in the crook of his elbow. Just who is this guy? Her overprotective boyfriend or something? "She fainted during class. I was just taking her to the nurse. But I think they moved it, because I can't find it . . ."

"You're lost?" the raven-haired teen retorts unbelievingly. "You're rude, and you're crass, but I didn't think you were stupid, too." Before Naruto can open his mouth to spew a few choice expletives in denial, not to mention ask what the hell crass means — he does not have crabs, thank you very much — he manages to reach his hands underneath her body, before smoothly lifting her up against him. The guy even has the nerve to smirk as he steps back and cradles Hinata closer against his chest like he just won. _Won what?_ he asks himself. That's it. He _has_ to be her boyfriend.

"What the hell, jerk!" And that is when it hits Naruto — and it hits him mighty hard, like a train wreck. He knew the creepy-eyed dude was familiar! "Wait, I know you! You're that guy from yesterday that flipped me off at the traffic light!"

The creepy guy merely rolls his eyes before spinning around on his heel, and walking down the hallway.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"What's it look like, dobe? I'm taking her to the nurse's office."

That ladies and gentlemen, is how Hinata ends up in the nurse's office. Lying prone on a hospital bed, the starched blankets pulled up to her chest, the confused girl slowly comes to. She has no idea that minutes prior to her total blackout, the very boy she is afraid of encountering again one on one is the same person who brought her here. All she knows is that she fainted in front of Naruto-kun, her crush since forever, and that causes her to groan and bury her face mournfully in her hands.

At lunch, a glum Hinata relates to the best of her ability what has happened. TenTen has to swallow down as much chocolate milk as she can before she spits it out amidst exaggerated chortles, her eyes watering from her hysteria.

"TenTen!" she whimpers plaintively, scrunching her face childishly at her best friend.

The brunette merely shakes her head back and forth, a wide smile stretched stupidly across her face. Wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, she gasps out fondly between wheezing breaths, "Only you, Hinata. Only you."

…

…

The dejected girl trudges to the last period of the day, convinced that an undeniable force must be to blame for everything going wrong in her life. Fate or God is being exceptionally cruel; pick your beliefs, either would work. Hinata doubts things cannot possibly get any worse, either way. Not only has she irreparably, horrifically embarrassed herself in front of her entire art class, including the golden-haired, blue-eyed boy she so adores, but now she will more than likely be forced to work alongside the contrastingly dark-haired, even darker-eyed boy who she is convinced hates her guts. There is no chance Ms. Hanae will bend to the wishes of her peers.

Predictably, in spite the majority of the class' trying to convince Ms. Hanae otherwise, she firmly sticks by her decision. "I don't want to hear any more complaints!" she calls out, clapping her hands together. The sound hushes any and all of the students who are grumbling agitatedly underneath their breaths. Satisfied, Ms. Hanae says merrily, "I picked your partners for a specific reason. The purpose behind this assignment is to get to know one another. More than likely, you would have all partnered up with someone you already knew. This way, there's more of a chance everyone will be working with someone they don't know, thus making a new acquaintance . . ."

Ms. Hanae continues to rave about the assignment, and Hinata inhales deeply. Casting Sasuke a sidelong glance, she notes the jaded expression on his face. His dark obscure eyes gravitate towards her, and realizing she has been caught staring she looks down hastily, blushing to the ends of her toes.

Unpredictably, Ms. Hanae calls out, "Sasuke and . . ."

The air of the room grows heated as it fills with feminine anxiety and yearning.

" . . . Karin."

"Ha!" Karin cries out triumphantly, crimson eyes glittering with apparent satisfaction behind gleaming spectacles. At the same time, Sakura scowls, another girl thumps her head against her desk, and various others let out groans of disappointment. The red-haired girl wastes no time in puttering over to where Sasuke is, pulling up a chair beside him whilst batting her lashes coyly.

"Shino and Hinata."

Shino nods at her from across the classroom, and Hinata flashes a warm smile, unable to believe her luck.

Shino Aburame is a highly intelligent individual with a well-known silent demeanor, at the top of their class with extraordinary marks. He is probably the only person who is even quieter than she is, Hinata muses, while always adhering to a courteous code of conduct. His interest in gardening, specifically in insect life, is what throws others off. She has never had a problem with it, and once was even was a member of a gardening club the silent boy was in charge of. His bountiful knowledge of humane insect traps, environmental friendly repellants, and landscaping in general was both informative and helpful. It had been enjoyable, and she would have rejoined, if it had not been one of the clubs to be dissolved in sophomore year.

Hinata is about to rise to her feet, but Shino has already beat her to it, dragging his metal chair to situate it in front of her desk. He sits down smoothly, staring at her for a long moment, before passing her his paper. He explains, "I think it would be more efficient if we were to write down our answers to the questions ourselves. You may go in depth as you so wish. Unless, do you have an objection?"

"No," Hinata replies, her face brightening with a small smile. "I think that sounds like a good idea."

Companionable silence falls between the pair as they get to work. Until, Hinata notices Shino is staring at her again, which in turn makes her fidget nervously underneath his intense scrutiny. Her fingers start to fiddle together as she licks her lips. "Um, is there something wrong, Shino-kun?"

Shino simply regards her for several heartbeats before answering. His expression remains listless, unchanged, and yet the rich timbre of his voice is marked with the faintest hint of curiosity. "Do you know him?"

She scrunches her brow and looks genuinely confused for a moment. "Who?"

"Sasuke, the one who is sitting in the desk exactly three seats to your left. Do you know him?"

Hinata stares at the face of her classmate with wide-eyed trepidation. The light in her snowy eyes dims, and the color in her face pales. "W-Why do you ask?" she queries in a whispery voice, her stomach tying itself up in knots.

"He has looked over here, specifically at you, various times during the duration of this class period. It is not an uncommon occurrence, I have come to notice."

Realizing Sasuke's perusal, a soft blush dusts across her cheeks in response. Sure enough, Shino is right, not that she ever doubted him in the first place. His partner Karin is speaking a mile per minute, while he himself looks detached, like his mind is elsewhere. She watches his distant, piercing black eyes — her pulse jumps when those eyes stare right at her. She looks away quickly, turning to look at Shino, who in turn raises an eyebrow at her.

"If he is bothering you . . ." His voice trails off, and the meaning is not at all lost on Hinata.

She looks at him in a snap. "N-no!" she stammers out, her hands flailing frantically like windmills. She furiously shakes her head, sending waves of midnight colored hair flying about. "Thank you but that won't be necessary, Shino-kun."

Shino nods slowly. "I admit I am curious as to why he has been staring at you as much as he has, but unless he does something inappropriate I will not get involved." Having stated that, Shino resumes writing, and all the flustered girl can do is stare at him, contemplating her options.

Twenty minutes later, the bell rings.

…

…

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

Hinata's fingers quickly spins her combination before flinging open the metal door in front of her. Pulling out her Spanish textbook, she shuts it with a clamorous bang. The girl then takes off down the hallway, each heaving breath bringing her closer to her destination; when she reaches the front doors, she shoves them open and searches around frantically for her bus. There! There it is!

There it is, just pulling out of the school bus loop.

Upon seeing the bus drive away, Hinata lets her head droop downwards with a crestfallen sigh. Of course she has to forget her text book, run back to her locker to get it, only to miss her bus ride home, today of all days. The world is surely conspiring against her. To top it all off, she can feel raindrops starting to fall.

Is it stupid she wants to cry? Her lips tremble, and she can feel the salty liquid brimming in her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. "A true Hyuuga does not wear their hearts on their sleeve," she recalls her father behesting; they are silent, graceful, and strong. Honor and pride are to be upheld at all times. So she bottles her clandestine emotions up, stoppering them into a glass bottle. It does not come easy to Hinata, but then again not many things do.

The familiar rhythm of her phone starts reverberating, and Hinata reaches down inside her bag to check her latest text message.

**To: Hinata**  
><strong>From: TenTen<strong>  
><em>:( srry i couldn't make the bus wait any longer.<em>

She smiles at that, not wasting any time and texting an optimistic response.

**To: TenTen**  
><strong>From: Hinata<strong>  
><em>don't worry about it, it's my own fault.<em>  
><em>thanks for trying tho. i appreciate it. :)<em>

Opening her umbrella, Hinata does the only thing she can do. She starts walking slowly out into the rain.

It's not so bad. The rain isn't harsh and unforgiving like yesterday, hissing as it fills the streets. Around her, droplets of silver are glistening on the grass, and dazzling on the leaves of the trees. Hinata falls into a state of tranquil lull as she listens to the soft pitter patter of the weather against the the top of her umbrella. It's calming, and she almost immediately feels her muscles relax as the negative energy drains from her core. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, inhaling the distinctly sweet and refreshing fragrance permeating the air.

When she opens her eyes again, she smiles softly.

Her smile is short lived when suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she makes out the familiar sight of a shiny, black car.

Hinata pales. Sure, the day has sucked so far, but she didn't expect this. She did not expect to innocently be walking along underneath the protection of her umbrella, only to have him drive by her yet again. Trying her hardest to ignore the vehicle's presence, Hinata not-so-subtly speed-walks. But the car only accelerates, effortlessly keeping pace with her. Her eyes remain riveted straight ahead as she stubbornly puts one step in front of the other.

As soon as the door is shoved open, unable to feign ignorance anymore, she stops and turns towards the car — well, specifically into it and at the driver staring at her expectantly. She nervously fiddles with her bag. Then with the zipper on her hoodie. Then her hair. She looks to her left, then to her right, wondering if somehow she can make an escape and disappear from view, but of course there is nowhere to run. When she gains the nerve to finally refocus her attention on Sasuke, he is quirking a slender brow at her in what looks like mild amusement. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and she blushes. She cannot believe that he is actually smirking at her!

"Got somewhere else to be?" he prods dryly, eyeing her.

Hinata bites her lip. "No . . ."

"Then get in the car, Hinata."

Her heart goes thump, thump, thump and her stomach clenches. These reactions he induces by calling her by her first name catches Hinata off guard. Why is he speaking so familiarly with her in the first place? A million and one questions thrum to life in her mind, colorful strings attaching and detaching, but one thought triumphs over them all: nothing will be answered unless she gets into Sasuke's car. So she weighs her options before making a decision.

She nods, sending him an awkward smile, before getting in the car in silence. As she settles in the seat next to Sasuke, Hinata clasps her hands in front of her, eyelashes lowering demurely.

She knows she should say something but she is not sure what to say. They leave the school in silence too. Hinata fiddles again with her bag, braving another look in Sasuke's direction. She wishes she could say something, but she can't. It is like she is paralyzed. She cannot think of the right thing to say, and put them into words, but she knows she should say something, anything.

"Uchiha-san?" she entreats him. "Y-you didn't have to pick me up, b-but thank you."

At the red light his hands clench and unclench on the wheel. He is not looking at her when he addresses her, but instead pure black orbs are diving out into the rain. _That's okay,_ she muses. She is too shy to meet his gaze head on anyway. "You really haven't changed at all," he mumbles quietly.

The rich sound of his voice in such a low timbre causes a subtle stirring somewhere in her chest, her heart. She stiffens, her hands tightening on her bag. His elucidation catches her off guard. A lot of things about Sasuke are catching her off guard today. "W-what do you mean?" she whispers self-consciencely.

"Don't take it like that," Sasuke tells Hinata firmly, and this time he does shoot her an exasperated glance. "I know you'll somehow interpret that as an insult, but it's not."

Sasuke's words echo over and over in her head like a sweet fantasia and hope hums to life through her veins. Involuntarily, the color of blossoms rises underneath her cheeks. Hinata is hesitant, intimidated in fact, but with a newfound burst of courage she presses on to confess, "I thought . . . I thought you didn't want to be around m-me."

"Why? Because of yesterday?"

Hinata doesn't restrain herself. Her voice is meek but clear. "Hai."

"No, that's not it. It's just . . . that house. Too many memories." The light in his eyes dims. Sasuke's lips fall into a flat line, and he leaves it at that.

"Oh. I understand . . . "

And she does, she really does. It is somewhat a relief, knowing he doesn't think badly of her. But that relief is dampened by the way the spark in his eyes goes out and narrow, a scowl flitting over his lips as sepia-tinted memories hang over his head like ghosts. Days of warmth in the summer sun as they played hide and seek, sitting underneath the table eating freshly ripened tomatoes from Mikoto's garden, of tentative, shy smiles and laughs and bonding . . . they are dashed and subjected to nonexistance, made only now to resound in her own memories. It is as if it all never happened. It is as if she is sitting next to a stranger. She understands, but it doesn't mean she isn't sad, and even a little bit angry at the situation.

_We used to be friends,_ she recollects, sadly. Hinata swiftly reprimands herself. There is no use thinking like that anymore. It is what it is.

As a result, the conversation dies there, ending on an acerbic note, as it fades into uncomfortable silence.

"Why . . . why were you here?" Hinata enquires after a few moments, in an attempt to break the ice. She is so used to impenetrable silence from her own father, but for some unidentifiable reason she cannot stand it from Sasuke, even now. Her question is not the best topic starter to get a conversation going but thankfully Sasuke takes the bait. His answer, however, dumbfounds her.

"You think I'm stalking you?" Sasuke's retort comes out snappish and annoyed.

"N-No!" she bursts out, realizing her horrible mistake. She is sure he has his reasons, she just doesn't know what they are. Her response comes out in a hurried tangent as she rushes to rectify the false, not to mention, awfully phrased question she asked him. "I didn't mean to imply t-that! I'm sorry. Um, I just . . ."

"Yesterday I stayed after school. Today is my first day at work, so right after I go home and change I'll be heading out again."

A new dose of concern clouds her visage. Her bright eyes widen instantaneously. "I won't make you late, w-will I?"

"No. Now stop worrying so much," he chastises her, obsidian irises on the road. "I could have easily not picked you up. It was my decision to stop. Got it?"

Hinata hesitantly nods.

"Good. So . . . how's your English project going with your partner?" Her eyelashes flutter at that. Sasuke asking her after her English assignment isn't an inquiry she anticipates coming from him. The thought of Sasuke not wanting their conversation to end either, even if she doubts his genuine interest in regards to the topic, makes the tiniest bit of happiness spark within her. "It's going . . . good. Shino-kun is very, um, dependable."

"Dependable?" The teen echoes, a hint of what she swears is akin to amusement lingering underneath his words.

"H-Hai . . ."

"Hn. Only you'd say something like that."

"H-He is!" she says defensively, the real intent of his words flying over her head. "We used to be in a gardening club together, but it was canceled. He made a g-great president." She adds, as an afterthought, "What about um, yours?"

"Karin is annoying," Sasuke relates with a snort. Not missing a heartbeat, he asks her, "By the way . . . are you all right. After what happened earlier?"

"I'm fine." Hinata looks up instinctively, offering Sasuke a confused gaze, her eyes flashing pearls. Then her fair-skinned face pinkens. Why is Sasuke asking about earlier, unless he knows . . . ? She swallows thickly before continuing, her softly spoken words hesitant, uncertain; each syllable quakes with a keen sense of horror and foreboding. "W-Why do you ask?"

"Of course Naruto didn't tell you," Sasuke says with an air of exasperation, and Hinata notices he is turning onto her road. He shakes his head.

"Tell me w-what?"

"I ended up taking you to the nurse. I didn't trust Naruto to be able to carry you without dropping you on your head after he said he was lost."

A rush of unadultered disillusion swirls in her head, jumbling her intense cocktail of emotions burning her chest.

"You — " she clears her throat. "You're the one who . . . c-carried me to the n-nurse's office?" She tries to think about what the nurse told her when she woke up. She had said that a very nice boy had carried her there, bridal-style, and even gone back to her classroom to pick up her binder and textbooks. Originally assuming it had been Naruto's doing, she felt horrible for inconveniencing him, though grateful for his valiant efforts. Her heart had even skipped a beat at the thought of the handsome blonde cradling her in his strong, muscular arms — but in all actuality, it had been Sasuke. Sasuke had done all of those things for her, not Naruto. Sasuke had carried her across the school, then gone back inside her classroom only to bring Hinata her belongings. Sasuke had helped her. Sasuke had looked out for her . . .

It is then, she knows. Underneath the impassive façade, the ice-cold beauty, the little boy she remembers, the one who loved tomatoes and hated soap and defended her from bullies, is still there. Hinata stares at him in slight awe. She nibbles her lower lip for a bit before allowing a pleasant smile to envelope her rosy mouth. "T-Thank you. That was very . . . kind of you."

"It's not a big deal," he mutters dismissively. The faintest dusting of sugar pink shadows his face, or that could be a trick of light. She looks at him, and he looks straight ahead, hands tight on the steering wheel. Sasuke stops at the end of her drive way, putting the car in park. The ride home is officially over, yet she can't help but wish it wasn't.

"T-thank you, again, for the ride home, and for e-earlier," the indigo-haired girl adds shyly. "I'll go now. Um . . . Good luck at your first day of w-work. Do your best!"

His lips curve slightly into an enigmatic smile. "Sure."

And when she gathers her belongings, fumbling clumsily with her bag and collapsible umbrella, she crinkles her fingers in a cheerful wave before running towards the safety of her porch. This time, she does watch him go. She never takes her eyes off of him as he pulls out of her driveway, nodding briefly at her in acknowledgement, before taking off through the dwindling rain. The storm is slowly dispersing, giving away to fleecy clouds, and sunbeams are falling through like panes of gold.

Hinata smiles, suddenly feeling so much lighter.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Woo! Long chapter, huh? Well, I hope it at least makes up for the wait! I hate how I didn't update at my self-appointed quota, but sometimes it can't be helped. Birthdays and holidays tend to eat away at my time, haha. Unfortunately, I think I'll only be able to update once or twice before Christmas time rolls around since I'll be busy with writing up promised requests/giftfics; but I promise I'll do my best! So was this chapter too boring? Too long? Or did you enjoy the tentative beginning of Sasuke and Hinata's friendship, or catch the spark between them? I love writing their interactions, they're just too darn cute. Let me know in a review, please!

**Edit:** You know, I really love when people don't have the courage to sign in and leave their supposed "critique". I understand, I'm not the best writer, or even a very good one. I primarily write for my own enjoyment. If others like what I come up with, I only consider that a bonus. I understand my "style" isn't everyone's cup of tea, and it's okay. The only thing I take issue with is when: 1. People don't sign in and yet write me lengthy comments trying to help me "better" my writing. I'd be more apt to talk it out and take your words to heart if you made it to where I can contact you, but alas, apparently that is too scary for some. 2. While I am fine with people thinking I write too descriptively, I'm not okay with anyone saying I don't put thought into plot or characterization. That is an insult to me, especially considering this is genuinely the first multi-chaptered story I've mostly planned from beginning to end. Not only that, I actually put effort into writing all of the Naruto characters IC. I want them to retain their manga/anime personalities while being relate-able. Otherwise, what would be the point of writing an AU Naruto fanfiction? There would be none.

**E›** tifa .


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